The Eagle's Talon
by EveTheHuman
Summary: The dragon's blood used to mean much more than just a perfect dragonslayer. And there still are those who remember.


_This is my first fic written in English, which is not my first language. It is also self-edited, which means I've surely missed lots of mistakes. That's why I apologize for any grammar/language errors, typos and general non-literariness. Also, desperately looking for beta._

* * *

"I find no pleasure in beating you," a strong voice echoed through the stone walls, "but you're leaving me little choice."

That wasn't entirely a lie. He understood the necessity of, so to say, getting one's hands dirty once in a while – after all, he was a Justiciar and that title carried some weight – but it didn't mean he had to enjoy it. They were a superior race, which meant they should be far above such petty amusements. It was only regrettable that _some of them _seemed to have trouble remembering that in this Divines-forsaken country.

This time, however, he wouldn't need violence, which was a certain relief. Not that he was afraid of her making a noise – that wouldn't be the first Thalmor's prisoner the Understone Keep _heard_ – but this was an unusual case and should be handled with delicacy and discretion. Even in such place it was best not to draw too much attention. Fortunately, the girl was already scared almost senseless. She was no longer glancing desperately around the chamber, twitching her fingers and biting her lips nervously, as she used to for the last two hours. Now she was just staring helplessly at the stone table, and as soon as she heard the word "beating", she started to tremble. It wasn't going to take long. All there was needed now was a little _pressure_.

"I'll ask you one more time. What were you doing there and by whose order?"

"I...I don't know," the girl finally said, trying to avoid his gaze. "It ain't my fault. I had no choice. I didn't want to..."

He frowned as if he was loosing his patience.

"You disappoint me," he said. "Do you understand that without your full cooperation I won't be able to help you?"

She snorted, but he could feel her fear and anguish.

"Yeah, right. Help me. Like I'd believe that."

"If I have wished to hurt you, human, you wouldn't be capable of uttering a word by now. Which would also most likely be the case if you had been caught by one of _them_." Oh, it definitely would, he thought. It was well known that during her past years in Skyrim Elenwen had some most... peculiar ideas about interrogating her prisoners, and now, with Rulindil dead, this particular one would surely receive her very special treatment... Of course, provided that the Mer had laid her finger on the girl first. Imagining the expression on the First Emissary's face when she hears that it was _his_ men who caught her little 'Embassy problem' had helped him remain calm during this whole investigation.

The prisoner was silently staring at her own hands and he could almost hear her calculating her chances. She was young, very young, even for a human – at least as far as he could say – but she didn't seem like one of the 'sacrificing for a case' kind. If things were to become _unpleasant_, she wouldn't last more than a few hours, he could see that too clearly. That was a good sign. The interrogator watched as his words fully reached the girl, and waited.

"Fine. It ain't my fight anyway," she said suddenly.

Her choice of words surprised him, but he remained silent.

"I'm not gonna die for 'em," said the girl, raising her head and looking him straight in the eyes for the first time. "I'll tell you-"

"Good."

"-but only if you let me go then."

He could hardly refrain from smiling, even if with some irritation. Humans... their insolence and their lack of judgement never ceased to amaze him after all these years. Obviously, for a Mer like him, born and raised in Alinor, it was only understandable; the day he started to think like one of those Nords would most likely be his last, but still... The girl wasn't in a haggling position. Surely she must had realized that?

The Justiciar took a careful look at his 'guest'. He didn't spend enough time among humans to estimate her exact age, all he could say was that she was a young woman, most likely of Imperial origin. Her clothes and short, straw-coloured hair were dusty and rough, as if she spent the last few days hiding somewhere in the wild. Her face was covered in bruises and small cuts – "resisted arrest", he was told – and her brown eyes were glowing with desperation. She was clearly in most miserable condition, but she didn't seem so foolish or shocked not to understand her situation. And certainly even she couldn't be so... _unreasonable _to think that someone can break into the Thalmor Embassy and survive...

Yet there she was, staring at him intensely with a fearful anticipation that almost made him wonder at her naivety. But when he met her gaze, it only took him a few seconds to realize, with a certain surprise, that the girl actually _knew_. She knew that she was going to die. She knew that the Thalmor were not the ones to forgive easily, and even after confessing everything there was, the best she could count for was a quick, relatively painless death. She was, apparently, well aware of her state, and yet... She still seemed to be hoping, with all her might, that she would hear otherwise. The girl wanted to live, desperately. And thus, she _wanted_ to trust him, even if it was against her best instincts.

He couldn't had wished for a better opportunity.

"This isn't a crime that can be simply overlooked," he said with a stern tone. "As I'm sure you have heard-"

"Yeah, I know, I know that," said the girl hastily, "but listen to me. This ain't a small thing. She told me you've been looking for 'em for years. If you found 'em, you'd probably be rich and all that. Please. I don't want to die..."

He frowned. It was obvious that his prisoner wasn't a simple thief – it was still disturbing how she managed to sneak into the party as one of the servants, considering the fact that Elenwen hired only Bosmers and Khajiits – but he wasn't able to tell who was that 'she' the girl was referring to. Yes, the Thalmor had many enemies, he knew that better than anyone. But how could a figure influential enough to infiltrate the Embassy send someone so... _unqualified_?

"Well then, speak," he said impatiently. As he expected, the girl shook her head nervously.

"I will. But first you have to promise to let me go."

He watched as she looked away, as if she realized how childish and naive the sentence must had sounded. That was the right moment, he thought with a certain satisfaction. Just one more step and he would acquire the information the whole Skyrim's Thalmor had been searching for days, and all that without resorting to such _lowly means_ as violence. He knew he had to play it carefully, though, simply giving the girl what she wanted wouldn't suffice. If there was one thing he learned about humans in this cold, unwelcoming land, was that one could be certain only of their suspicion; swear you will grant their wishes and shower them with gold and all you would get in return were a few distrustful glares. But make them think they are bargaining a fair deal...

"I cannot make such promises," he said slowly, studying the prisoner's face. "But I can assure you that your freedom depends entirely on the information you will give me. If it proves valuable..."

He saw her hesitation and understood he had won.

"Delphine," she said after a few seconds of a deafening silence. "Her name is Delphine."

* * *

When the girl had finished, he felt euphoric. Of course, there was a possibility that she had lied, but the Justiciar had heard many such confessions, and this time it was too detailed, too... _precise_ for a quickly made up story. The names corresponded. The descriptions nearly exactly matched what he had read in the files. And although the prisoner still seemed to be hiding some details about her role in the incident, it didn't matter. The Blades, by the Eight... If that would confirm... If he played it right, he could become... Or perhaps, just perhaps, he could even be allowed to leave this damnable...

Ondolemar stood up, ignoring the girl's hopeful stare, and turned to leave. The heavy metal door slammed.

"Find her a chamber. Don't let anyone in," he ordered the guards and rushed down the stone corridor.

That was the chance he had been waiting for. Suddenly, the look on Elenwen's face was no longer relevant.


End file.
